ain　he　stopped）—“did　not”　（he　proceeded　hastily）　“strike　delight　to　my　very　inmost　heart　so　for　nothing。　People　talk　of　natural　sympathies；　I　have　heard　of　good　genii：　there　are　grains　of　truth　in　the　wildest　fable。　My　cherished　preserver；　goodnight！”

Strange　energy　was　in　his　voice；　strange　fire　in　his　look。

“I　am　glad　I　happened　to　be　awake；”　I　said：　and　then　I　was　going。

“What！　you　will　go？”

“I　am　cold；　sir。”

“Cold？　Yes；—and　standing　in　a　pool！　Go；　then；　Jane；　go！”　But　he　still　retained　my　hand；　and　I　could　not　free　it。　I　bethought　myself　of　an　expedient。

“I　think　I　hear　Mrs。　Fairfax　move；　sir；”　said　I。

“Well；　leave　me：”　he　relaxed　his　fingers；　and　I　was　gone。

I　regained　my　couch；　but　never　thought　of　sleep。　Till　morning　dawned　I　was　tossed　on　a　buoyant　but　unquiet　sea；　where　billows　of　trouble　rolled　under　surges　of　joy。　I　thought　sometimes　I　saw　beyond　its　wild　waters　a　shore；　sweet　as　the　hills　of　Beulah；　and　now　and　then　a　freshening　gale；　wakened　by　hope；　bore　my　spirit　triumphantly　towards　the　bourne：　but　I　could　not　reach　it；　even　in　fancy—a　counteracting　breeze　blew　off　land；　and　continually　drove　me　back。　Sense　would　resist　delirium：　judgment　would　warn　passion。　Too　feverish　to　rest；　I　rose　as　soon　as　day　dawned。

Chapter　16

I　both　wished　and　feared　to　see　Mr。　Rochester　on　the　day　which　followed　this　sleepless　night：　I　wanted　to　hear　his　voice　again；　yet　feared　to　meet　his　eye。　During　the　early　p